


The Forfeit

by Spoonguard



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe, Cocky Ron Weasley
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-22
Updated: 2020-03-23
Packaged: 2021-03-01 03:53:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,290
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23268775
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spoonguard/pseuds/Spoonguard
Summary: Ron Weasley knows he is by far the greatest chess player Hogwarts has ever seen.In a moment of extreme cockiness during his first year, he makes a bet that he'll remain undefeated for his entire Hogwarts stay and says that, if he gets beaten, he'll carry out a forfeit of the victors choosing.Set in 5th year in an AU where Voldie isn’t around.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Harry Potter
Comments: 13
Kudos: 173





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A short couple of chapters based on something from the TV show, 'Father Ted'.
> 
> Set in an AU where Voldie isn’t around.
> 
> I hope you enjoy!

_Gryffindor Common Room  
Friday 1st May 1992_

“Listen to me, Harry,” said Ron Weasley, smugly “I’m undefeated for almost an entire school year. It’s simple really. I’m a chess master.”

Harry sighed as he repositioned the pieces for another game. He’d spent the better part of the year getting comprehensively trounced by Ron, although he was at least in the good company as everyone that had challenged his red-headed friend had suffered the same outcome.

“In fact,” Ron continued, really getting into his stride, “I bet you I remain undefeated for the entire time we’re in Hogwarts.”

Harry paused as he went to replace the black Knight, instead choosing to roll it between his palms. He looked up at the self-satisfied expression on Ron’s face. “What are you betting?”

Ron pondered this for a moment. “Well, how about whoever beats me can set a forfeit that I _have_ to do. In fact…” he stood and cleared his throat, before addressing the packed common room pompously. “Oi! Listen up! I hereby declare that if anyone beats me at chess before I leave Hogwarts, I’ll do any forfeit of their choosing.”

“ _Any_ forfeit? You’re that confident ickle-Ronniekins?” Fred shouted back from the other side of the room.

“What can I say?” Ron replied arrogantly. “I’ve spent the year pummelling anyone that’s taken me on. I see no reason why that’s not going to continue for the next six years.” He dropped back into his seat, looking very pleased with himself.

Harry shared a glance with Hermione who shook her head and returned her concentration to her book. He offered his hands to Ron, a different coloured pawn secreted in each fist and spoke. “Your choice.”

* * *

_Gryffindor Common Room  
Friday 17th May 1996_

“Checkmate,” Ron smirked over the board at Dean Thomas, who stood up and wandered off to talk to Sheamus. “That’s 3127 games in a row.”

“Are you honestly still counting Ronald?” Hermione said, looking up from the table she was sharing with Harry and taking a break from her Potions essay.

“Of course! Undefeated in almost 5 years of school – why wouldn’t I be counting?” Ron reset the board. “Harry – you playing?”

Harry sighed and pushed his essay aside. “Hermione – would you mind?” he pointed his quill at his essay, asking his friend to proof-read and smiled in thanks as she pulled the parchment toward her. “Come on then, let’s get this over with.”

“I’m feeling generous tonight Harry. You can start.” Ron turned the board so the white pieces were in front of Harry and sat back, awaiting the first move.

After 15 minutes Harry was surprised to find he was still in the game. He looked over at Ron who was smiling complacently and he realised he was being toyed with – Ron was deliberately stretching the game out to make his inevitable victory that much sweeter.

“Here you go Harry,” Hermione said. “It looks good, I’ve made a few minor corrections but it should get you an Exceeds anyway.”

“Yeah right,” scoffed Harry. “As if Snape is going to score a piece of my work that highly.”

“Honestly Harry. _Professor_ Snape.”

Harry grinned at her sheepishly. “Thanks, Hermione. You’re a lifesaver.”

Hermione sighed, rolled up her own essay and dropped down into the chair next to Harry to watch the remainder of the game.

10 minutes later, Ron had decided he’d allowed the game to go on for long enough. “Oh Harry,” he said after his friend had played yet another seemingly random move. “Have you learnt nothing from me after all these years?” He looked around the common room, pitching his voice so everyone close by could hear. “I guess this’ll just have to be win number 3128.” Ron reached his hand toward the board but stopped suddenly, peering down at the pieces.

“Ermm… Harry.” Hermione said, sitting forward abruptly. “Isn’t that checkmate?”

Ron sat stationary as a rush of people joined them around the board. “Fred!” called George excitedly. “It’s happened!”

“The reign of Weasley is over!” Fred announced to the surrounding masses. “Long live King Potter!” A small party broke out behind the players consisting of everyone that had taken a pasting at the hands of the youngest Weasley son – in essence, the whole occupancy of Gryffindor tower.

Ron, who had turned a funny shade of puce, was muttering to himself and staring at the board in disbelief. He slowly looked up at Harry who appeared bemused by the entire proceeding but had his hand out ready to shake. “Good game mate.” Harry said.

“But… what…” Ron stammered, flicking his gaze between the board and Harry’s hand. “ _HOW?”_

“No idea.” Harry beamed. “Nevermind though, I had to get lucky eventually.”

Ron finally reached over and shook Harry’s hand. “Yeah… well then… I’m just gonna go to bed.”

“Wait.”

Hermione spoke firmly enough that the party initiated by Harry’s victory stopped unexpectedly as the participants waited to hear what she had to say.

“1st May 1992.” She began, looking directly at Ron. “You stood up in front of the entire common room and announced that if anyone beat you at chess before you left Hogwarts, you would do any forfeit of their choosing.”

“Yeah, but Herms,” Ron began “That was 4 years ago. You can’t hold me to that…”

“For the last time Ronald, my name is Hermione – not Herms, not Hermy, _Hermione._ ” She glared at the red-head who was currently trying to make himself as small as possible under her stare. “You aren’t going to let the whole school think you’re backing out are you?”

“You’re not chicken are you, Ron?” Fred piped up.

“Actually,” George interrupted, “we’ve got a product in the works that will turn you into a chicken – maybe we can name it after ickle-Ronnikins if he doesn’t see this through. Immortalised for all to see!”

“Alright!” Ron glowered. “Name the forfeit Harry.”

Harry glanced over at Hermione and jerked his head at a corner of the room. They made their way over together and, upon arrival, Hermione placed a silencing charm around them. The entire common room watched with bated breath as the pair’s conversation went back and forth before a nod of agreement saw the charm dropped and the pair retake their seats in front of Ron.

“Well?” He said, anxiously. “What am I going to be doing?”

Harry grinned at Hermione who smirked back. “As we’re almost at the end of the school year, we thought it only fair that those outgoing students – “ Harry nodded now at the Weasley twins and the other seventh year students “- get to witness this. So before the end of the school year…” Harry paused for dramatic effect.

“Oh come on!” Ron shouted. “Just tell me!”

“You have to kick Professor Snape up the arse.”


	2. Chapter 2

Ron gaped at Harry, his mouth opening and closing like a goldfish. Eventually though, he found his voice.

“YOU WANT ME TO WHAT?”

“Kick Professor Snape.” Harry replied.

“Up the arse.” Hermione added helpfully.

Harry nodded in agreement. “Yeah, although I’d try to avoid making contact with the crown jewels. I think he’d end you if you did that.”

“Crown jewels?” One of the pureblood First-Years, a boy named Alastair Higgs, asked.

“You know,” Harry replied. “Gonads. Cojones. Knackers. Nuts.”

“I think they understand Harry.” Hermione said, a small, amused smile appearing as she listened to her friend.

“Rocks. Bollocks. Goolies.” Harry continued.

“Privates?” Neville chipped in, receiving a thumbs up from Harry in return.

“Testes! Sack! Scrote!” Fred and George had joined in now.

“I GET IT,” Ron cried. “Harry – mate – I can’t do that. Snape would kill me!”

“ _Professor_ Snape, Ronald.” Hermione sighed.

“I don’t really think his title matters if I’ve got to kick him up the arse.” Ron snarled back.

“Especially if you make contact with his stones.” Alastair interjected and was swiftly swept off his feet by Fred and George who danced him around the room exclaiming how proud they were of the ickle-firstie.

“Harry… please…” Ron begged.

“Sorry mate – all I can suggest is you have a bloody good plan. Oh, and there needs to be proof – witnesses or a photo I’m afraid. We can’t have you just claiming you’ve done it when you haven’t.”

“And don’t let Mum find out.” Added Ginny, causing Ron’s face to pale dramatically.

“You’ve got 6 weeks Ron,” Harry said. “That should be plenty of time for a master strategist such as yourself to come up with a plan and execute it.”

“Just don’t balls it up.” Hermione said, then giggled as Harry, who had been staring at her, amazed that she’d joined in the game, swept her into his arms before jokingly demanding that she marry him.

* * *

Laying in bed that night, Ron decided Harry was right. He was a chess prodigy – strategy was his thing! The more he thought about it, the more confident he became that he could pull this off. He started to imagine the adulation he would receive when he was successful and eventually drifted off to sleep with a smile on his face.

That level of confidence allowed him to put off planning the act until after his OWLs had finished – the only problem being that, whilst 6 weeks appeared to be a huge amount of time in which to accomplish the task before him, 3 weeks meant the deadline was now staring him straight in the face.

Ron had taken to pacing around the common room, muttering to himself and occasionally shaking his head as though dismissing an idea. At first, this behaviour had been alarming to some of the first-year Gryffindors but once they’d understood this was Ron’s method of planning, they sat back and watched, occasionally hearing words such as ‘shoelaces’, ‘broomsticks’ or ‘sausages’ – although admittedly that last one came just before lunch so may not have been related to Ron’s undertaking.

Then it happened. With two weeks remaining, Ron – who had been stood at the tower window looking down at the Black Lake – suddenly burst into action and sprinted for the common room door, forcing a group of Second-Year students to scatter rather than being run down by the rapidly approaching ginger mass that was hurtling toward them. Harry grabbed Hermione’s hand and together they hurtled after him, down the mass of staircases and out of the huge doors that led out to the castle grounds. They watched from a distance as Ron hid behind a tree, studying the Potions Master who was carefully combing the edge of the lake for potions ingredients. Harry pulled his wand from his pocket and conjured a large bowl of popcorn before pulling Hermione down onto the grass next to him to watch Ron’s plan unfold.

As Professor Snape bent over to pick a herb, Ron saw his opportunity and ran at his teacher full-pelt. As he began his final approach, tensing his body in preparation for the kick, Snape straightened suddenly and turned to face the incoming student. Ron took the only option left open to him and abandoned the attempt, instead choosing to sprint directly past the puzzled Professor and launching himself into the cold waters of the Black Lake.

“Weasley!” Snape snapped. “What are you doing, idiot boy?”

“Just… fancied a dip, Sir…” Ron stammered as he returned to shore.

Snape glared at the bedraggled student before him who stood uncomfortable, not just because of the look being sent his way, but also because of how soggy his underwear had become.

“Get out of my sight Weasley.” Snape sneered, dismissing him before muttering “dunderhead” under his breath.

Ron visibly sagged and trudged back up to the castle, past Harry and Hermione who were rolling around with laughter, popcorn forgotten, only to be accosted by Filch as he made his way across the entrance hall, and assigned detention for ‘befouling the castle’.

* * *

Ron tried on another two occasions to achieve his goal but both times, for one reason or another, circumstances conspired to rob him of the opportunity at the last second. Harry and Hermione had taken to trailing after him, popcorn in hand, whenever he got a look of resolve in his eyes and had been amused to see Ron’s attempt to backtrack whenever Snape caught sight of him. Snape himself had become highly suspicious of the Fifth-Year Gryffindor and became more and more wound up by his mere presence.

With two days to go before the end of term, Ron was desperate and out of ideas. The next opportunity he had, he was going to go for it and, once again, that now-familiar glint of determination appeared in his eyes. Hermione nudged Harry and pointed out Ron’s expression and they knew the game was afoot once more.

Ron was nervous and distracted throughout the final Potions lesson of their fifth year and Professor Snape became more and more irate as the lesson went on, even snapping at several Slytherins (though not going as far as to deduct house points). Finally, the lesson had reached its conclusion and, as the rest of the students filed out of the room, Ron stooped to slowly collect his bag and Harry and Hermione hung back to observe.

Snape turned his back and began to inventory what remained of his ingredient stores. As he bent down to look at the bottom shelf, Ron sprang into action. He nodded at Harry then moved as quickly and as quietly as he could into position behind Snape. He looked like he was pondering something as he studied the greasy-haired dungeon bat in front of him, then his expression cleared. He shrugged and looked at Harry once more before swinging his leg and kicking Severus Snape firmly in the right buttock, jolting him into an upright stance with surprise.

Snape spun around, shock on his face as he stared at Ron.

“Sir?” Ron asked. “Are you OK?”

Snape just looked at him in silent disbelief.

“Sir - you’re scaring me.” Ron didn’t have to fake the nervousness in his voice. “I’ll go get Madam Pomphrey.” With that, he dashed for the door, closely followed by Harry and Hermione.

Once they were safely several floors away, Ron slumped against the nearest wall and slid down until he was sat on the floor. He looked up at Harry and Hermione who both appeared to be caught somewhere between horror and the need for pants-wetting laughter.

“Ron! What the hell was that!” Harry exclaimed.

“I panicked, alright?” Ron replied miserably. “I ran out of time for the bet and just… went with it.”

“You really gave it some welly,” Harry said, unable to hold back his amusement any longer. “He’ll be feeling that for the next couple of days at least.”

Ron shrugged. “I thought if I was going to do it, I might as well go for it…”

“WEASLEY!” Snape’s voice boomed down the corridor and the trio looked round to see the furious figure of their teacher bearing down on them. Snape almost skidded to a halt in front of them. “WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU’RE PLAYING AT? I’LL SEE YOU IN DETENTION FOR THE ENTIRE OF NEXT YEAR YOU LITTLE…”

Ron gathered his Gryffindor side and got back to his feet. “I’m sorry, Sir,” he stuttered. “I don’t know what it is I’ve done…?”

“WHAT IT IS YOU’VE DONE?!” If possible, Snape’s voice, already loud enough to draw a crowd, had kicked up another few decibels. “YOU KICKED ME UP THE ARSE BOY.”

Ron’s terror was plain to see but he’d started down this path and couldn’t give up now. “Sir, I’m sorry but – let’s be honest, I’m terrified of you. Is it really likely that I kicked you in the arse… Sir?”

Snape’s jaw snapped shut with a click as he thought about what Weasley had just said. He was _sure_ it had happened but there was an undeniable truth in that nearly all the students (except for those in his own house) were petrified of him. Would _Weasley_ of all people be the one to break out of that fear and take action, however imbecilic?

“Yes – well,” said Snape, self-doubt clear on his face. “I suppose not…” Snape drew himself up to his full height and regain his composure. “Get out of my sight – all of you.”

Harry had hastily wiped his face free from expression the moment Snape had appeared but now eagerly grabbed Hermione’s hand once more, before catching hold of Ron’s shoulder and shepherded him through the crowd of onlookers and back to Gryffindor Tower.

“Bloody hell.” Whispered Ron as he slumped into a chair once they’d reached the safety of the common room. “I thought I was done for.”

“I can’t believe he bought it.” Said Hermione in wonder as Harry regaled the rest of their house with the story of Ron’s narrow escape.

* * *

Harry approached the Hogwarts Express the following day with a satisfied smile on his face. During dinner the previous night, Snape had been shifting uncomfortably in his chair and glaring suspiciously at Ron, who had decided to forego dessert and head up to bed early, leaving Harry and Hermione on their own.

“You know Hermione,” Harry began, “I’ve really enjoyed the last few weeks. I’m going to miss our popcorn breaks.”

“Me too Harry.” Hermione replied, smiling.

Harry looked at the bushy-haired girl sat next to him and decided to go for it. “There are, of course, places in the Muggle world where we could share some popcorn…” he said as nonchalantly as he could manage. “Like the Cinema…”

“Harry? Are you asking me out on a date?”

Without warning, the nerves kicked in and butterflies started dancing in Harry’s stomach. “Ermm… yes? I mean, only if you want to…”

Hermione stood and placed a gentle kiss on Harry’s cheek. “I’d love to.” she whispered before leaving the Great Hall, glancing back only once she had reached the door to see her friend looking back at her with a dazed expression and blushing, his hand touching the place where her lips had fallen only moments before.

Harry thoughts returned to the present as he felt a small hand slip into his. He looked up into the sparkling brown eyes of his… girlfriend? He wasn’t sure what they were but he was more than happy to spend the time to find out.

Harry gave her a small peck on the cheek and lifted her trunk onto the train before returning to the platform for his own. He straightened up and look around at the multitude of school children boarding the train, with a frown on his face. “Has anyone seen Ron?”

“There he is,” said Neville, pointing at Ron who was sprinting down the path to the station. “Why is he running?”

* * *

Severus Snape was not happy. Usually, he’d be able to take it out on one of the brats – preferably an insufferable Gryffindor – but as it was the last day of term it wasn’t possible. His right buttock had bruised so badly he’d been forced to go and see Madam Pomphrey for some bruise remover and he was now stalking his way to the Headmaster’s office. He climbed the stairs, irritated to be in the situation but satisfied he would be receiving answers soon.

“Good morning Severus, is there something I can help you with?” Albus Dumbledore’s blue eyes twinkled at him over the frames of his spectacles.

“Yes Headmaster. I was hoping I could make use of your pensieve?”

“Certainly.”

* * *

Ron Weasley was casually sauntering down to the train station, flush with the success of getting away with his actions the previous day, when he heard a voice, booming from the castle, encouraging him to leave the grounds as rapidly as possible.

“WEASLEY!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So there we have it. A short piece of nonsense but one I very much enjoyed writing.
> 
> If you're interested, the episode of Father Ted I've based this on is cunningly titled "Kicking Bishop Brennan Up the Arse" but you'll also want to watch the previous episode "Escape from Victory" as the 'All-Priests five-a-side Over-75s Indoor Challenge Football Match' is where the bet starts. If that entire sentence looks like nonsense to you, you're not far wrong.


End file.
